


At The Bottom of a Well

by Maura_Cullen_Hamilton



Series: The Queervengers Literary Universe [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Cannon can suck my toe, Grant Ward Feels, Grant Ward needs a Hug, Hurt grant ward, Hurt/Comfort, I'm calling it the Queervengers Literary Universe, M/M, Wacks-freeform, Ward isn't Hydra in this, this is part of a larger universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maura_Cullen_Hamilton/pseuds/Maura_Cullen_Hamilton
Summary: Grant has been falling apart ever since that incident with the Berserker Staff, but he won't let anyone know. Especially not Rowan.Rowan could tell something was wrong with Grant, that something was bothering him, but he brushed it off, insomnia wasn't unusual for Grant. However, when Grant is late for a briefing one day, Rowan goes looking for him and suddenly Grant can't hide what's happening anymore....
Relationships: Grant Ward/Original Character(s), Grant Ward/Original Male Character(s), Grant Ward/Rowan Jacks
Series: The Queervengers Literary Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021558
Comments: 5
Kudos: 3





	1. Falling to Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe my first fanfic is Wacks... I blame my friend, Crow for this whole heartedly. I will probably extend the first chapter in a bit, I just wanted to get this out.

Grant was trudging his way towards his next briefing. He was tired, he'd been having trouble sleeping lately, plagued by guilt from the past, a fervent desire, and fear, to make amends. Ever since the Berserker staff, the memories of the well had haunted him more than usual, overtaking his every thought. He hadn't told anyone that he'd started to break down at least once a day, if not more, they wouldn't care anyway.

Just thinking about it was enough to work him up. He could feel his face heating up, breathing was getting harder, there was a telltale burning in his nose. He knew he couldn't go into a meeting like this.

He couldn't let anyone see him like this.

Even if they didn't care, he still had his dignity. The one thing he always had if nothing else.

He knew a place he could hide where he wouldn't be stumbled across by accident. He'd be easily found if someone were looking, but they wouldn't be. Why would they waste their energy looking for him when he was worthless, a bad person, a broken man?

He quickly changed course to a secluded hallway, it was a dead end, he'd been here often enough over the last few months, whenever the team wasn't on the Bus. 

He pulled out the picture of Thomas that he kept on him at all times. It was a picture from when they were younger, their mom had been in a good mood that day. She had said she wanted a picture of her 'favorite boys'. Grant had positioned himself in between Christian and Thomas, not trusting the older boy to not harm their younger brother in some way. Thomas was smiling brightly in the picture, whereas both Christian and himself looked weary, knowing their mother's good mood would never last.

Finally alone, he stopped fighting the tightness in his chest, let the sobs rock his body. He desperately gulped in gasping breath, it wasn't enough. It never was. Just like he wasn't enough.

It should have been him in the well, he'd known that for years. He should have stood up to Christian more, protected Thomas better. He was never good enough, he needed to be better. It's why he forced himself to be the perfect agent, made himself useful. At least then he might add some good to the world, somehow.

His throat burned, tears were pouring down his face, the photo in his hands looked distorted but he could still make out little Thomas' angelic smile.

Why was he so *weak*? Why couldn't he just apologize? Thomas deserved it after everything that had happened and yet Grant was too weak to do even that for him.

He was so lost in his frenzy of thoughts that he didn't hear the sound of boots approaching, stopping just a few feet away. And then,

"Grant?"


	2. If You Don't Swim, You'll Drown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rowan notices Grant is missing from a briefing and investigates. It isn't like Grant to skip a briefing. However, this action may cause more problems than either could have ever foresee....

Something had changed.

Rowan knew that much for certain. Things had been...different for the last month. At at the very least. Maybe it had been longer and he just hadn't noticed, he wasn't known for being the best jn social situations. He was useless that way. Grant said that it was okay and that there wasn't anything wrong with him, he wasn't sure whether to believe him though. He was different, but Grant said different was good and nothing to be ashamed of...

He was getting off topic, he had a habit of doing that. The point was things had, um, well, shifted? Yeah, shifted. Things had shifted after the incident with the Berserker Staff. It had all gone down hill from there.

After waiting a few more minutes to see if Grant might show up, Rowan had hoped that maybe he'd gotten caught up by something, he decided to go looking for him. He hadn't seemed like he'd been sleeping well lately, Rowan himself slept like the dead so he figured maybe he slept through Grant's struggles. That thought only made him feel worse. What kind of boyfriend doesn't realize his lover is struggling? What kind of boyfriend doesn't help them through it?

_Oh god,_ he thought. _What if something happened to him? What if he spiralled and got hurt because I'm too useless to help him?_

He was so caught up in these thoughts that he was only vaguely aware of excusing himself from the meeting to go and find Grant. He was drowning in his thoughts, there were just so many of them. He couldn't focus in on just one, they were overlapping and blending together. It was too much.

And then, suddenly, one thought ran through his mind louder than the rest.

_What if I'm the reason he's struggling?_

It hit him like a sucker punch to the gut.

He didn't want to consider that he could have been the one who had caused this pain in the man he loved. He didn't want it. He wanted to scream. He started to fidget with the little mesh and marble fidget toy Grant had made him a while back.

His thoughts kept spiraling.

_What if he's so distressed because he doesn't love me anymore? He has been rather close to May, lately... And he and Skye have a decent amount of chemistry... Oh god, I'm such a freak that the man I love can't even deal with me anymore! I'm too much for him, he can't handle it. It's my fault he's falling apart. ___

____

____

He doesn't know when he sat down, but he was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, in an empty corridor. His hand was smacking the ground in a consistent rhythm, his other was gripping the fidget like a lifeline. There was a quiet noise, almost like muttering, it was faint and sounded like gibberish to him. He couldn't think of what to do to make things go quiet, to calm himself down.

He tried to think of how Grant, Jemma, or Skye would respond if they were here. They were usually the ones who helped him when this happened. It didn't work, everything was too loud. It was too much, he couldn't gather his thoughts enough for a calming one to make it through.

Out of nowhere, a new voice joined the sound of the muttering. It was calming and gentle and sweet. But it was also too loud.

His head was bursting with everything, his hand sped up against the ground.

"Rowan," the voice said. "Can I touch you? Or do you need space?"

He needed something to ground him, to hold him here. He felt like he might float away. He couldn't say that though, he couldn't say anything really. He rarely could in these moments. He couldn't respond, not really. He started to breathe heavier, he curled tighter in on himself and began to rock.

The voice seemed to understand what he needed, as he soon felt two arms wrap around him tightly. They rocked with him, keeping pace, seeming to know that it helped to make him feel better.

He doesn't know how long they sat there, just rocking, before his mind started to clear up, by that time the rocking had slowed down. As he started to come back into control, he looked up and realized that the voice had belonged to Jemma. She sat there, loosening the grip of his hand with the fidget. He hadn't realized until that moment that he'd been gripping it so tightly, there was a stinging pain in his hand from where his nails had dug in to the skin.

After she had gotten his grip to slacker, she looked at him. She seemed calm and collected. Good, at least one of them was.

"Do you want to talk about it," she began to question. "Or do you just need to rest?"

Her eyes were so wide, so genuine that he wanted to tell her everything. But, he knew he wouldn't be able to find the words to explain it so he just shook his head.

"So, do you want to head back to your quarters so you can rest?"

Again, he shook his head. However, this time he managed to string a few words together. He was sure he barely sounded coherent, but the words were so hard to find and so difficult to actually say, that he didn't care as much as he normally would.

"Mmhhh...I....find.....Grant"

Jemma seemed to get what he meant though, as she shook her head.

"Don't worry about Grant," he started to shake his head again, but she continued on despite it. "He's fine, Skye and Fitz are with him."

That made him feel better and worse, at least Grant wasn't alone. But, on the other hand, he should have been the one there for him. He got so caught up in his own issues that he wasn't there for his boyfriend when he might have needed him to be there.

_Selfish._

"We should head back to the Bus. Grant would want you to rest, he cares about your wellbeing."

Rowan just nodded, not having it in him to argue, he was just tired. He wanted to curl up under a weighted blanket and sleep, let the rest of the world fall away....

When they made it back, Rowan immediately headed toward his bunk. He stumbled in and dropped onto the bed, he dragged the blanket over top him and almost immediately slipped into a deep sleep. He succumbed to the stresses of the day, allowing them to pull him under...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Old, I literally have no idea what I'm doing. I just wrote and it kept going and going and now we have this....
> 
> Please leave a comment with any criticisms you may have, or about anything really!
> 
> Edit: I just wanted to add that Rowan has anxiety and ADHD and his panic attack is based off some of the things I have experienced during my own in the past. Repetitive movement tends to be a whole thing with me and so does movement in general. Talking can be difficult, particularly out loud. I like movement and physical affection tend to ground me and make me feel better. I just thought I'd clear that up.
> 
> He also has my social anxiety/awkwardness and, unlike myself, can be a bit low empathy. He just has trouble picking up on things sometimes, you know.
> 
> -Harlot out

**Author's Note:**

> Since this is my first fic, if you could please comment good or negative I could really use constructive criticism!
> 
> Harlot, out.


End file.
